Behind every book you read there is the tale of how you came to read it. In 1962, when I was a ten year old schoolboy, my father took my elder brother and I to see a film at our local cinema, called The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I was far too young to appreciate such a film at the time and I had no idea what the word Apocalypse meant. I remember only two scenes from the film. The first was of a family sat round a table, discussing something very seriously, all looking very troubled, the other was of the four horsemen riding out of a background of newspaper headlines, concerned with war and invasion, and battle scenes. Looking back, I remember being disturbed, moved by the film. It was very grand, dramatic. After the film ended, I remember standing in the cinema foyer, looking up at the poster for the film that was to be shown the following week, which was called The Lonely Are The Brave. A title that puzzled me and made me feel sad.
"You didn't see much of them, did you, the four horsemen," I said to my father, in a disappointed tone, before we left the cinema, to catch the bus home.
"No, but I knew what it was about," he said.
Maybe he took my elder brother and I to see the film because it was about the First World War and my grandfather fought in the Battle of the Somme.
In the 1990's, during the Christmas holiday period, a silent film of the same name, made in 1921, starring Rudolph Valentino, was shown on Channel Four television. It was interesting watching a film so old. It was worth the watch, with some very dramatic scenes. The scene that still haunts me came near the end. An old man with a black, straggly beard, staggers around a field of lines of white crosses, looking for the grave of his son. He outspreads his arms, in despair. Then on the screen comes the caption card. Printed on it are the words: "I knew them all."
At the same time, I found out that both films were based on a novel of the same name, written by someone called Vicente Blasco Ibanez. One day, I will read it, I promised myself. Now, here in 2013, I have done.
I found it a very moving, disturbing novel, written in clear, bold prose that reveals the root of things, right to the bare bones. It seems at first as if it will be no more than the history of a wealthy landowner, called Don Marcelo Desnoyers and his family, alone. But when the family move from their ranch in Argentina to Paris, it deepens and widens out to become one that tells of how the events of the beginning of the First World War tears its members apart, as it does all of Europe. One of the passages that will always haunt me from the novel is the one which describes the conversation between Julio, the son of Don Marcelo Desnoyers, his friend, Argensola, and an old, bearded Russian man, named Tchernoff, as they walk towards the Arc De Triomphe, in Paris. In an inspired state, Tchernoff speaks of war in Europe, summoning in his ramblings the four horsemen from Chapter Six of the Book of Revelation.
The novel is good at capturing how first the rumour and talk of war leads to frenzy when the news comes in that Germany has invaded Belgium. From then on, Paris is transformed, relationships and perceptions changed. The middle part of the book is particularly moving and dramatic, concentrating on Don Marcelo, who remains in Paris, after sending his wife, Dona Luisa, and his daughter, Chichi, to live in a seaside town in Spain, to escape the possible German invasion. From Paris, he retreats to the castle he bought outside its walls, in the countryside. First he lives there, like a hermit, then as a prisoner, after it is taken over by the German army. The battle he witnesses between the German army and the French army is well told. Vicente Blasco Ibanez makes you feel the shudder of the cannons, as they fire, and makes you see and smell each explosion. His descriptions of battle reminded me of the battle scenes in War and Peace, the poetry of Wilfred Owen, and much further back, to the battle scenes described by Homer in The Iliad.
I was moved by the sad tale of the romance between Julio and Marguerite, which runs throughout the novel. When Julio first moves to Paris, he is content to live only for pleasure, living the life of a painter in his studio with his fellow artist, Argensola, becoming popular on the dance floors, while persisting with his romance with Marguerite, a married woman. But when war comes, he joins the French army and eventually becomes an officer, after performing some heroic deeds. Strangely, it is the war which reconciles Don Marcelo with his son, Julio. Before it begins, father and son had become estranged, because Don Marcelo had not approved of Julio's pleasure seeking lifestyle or his love affair with a married woman.
I am glad I have finally read this novel. I am not interested in war adventure stories or thrillers. This book is neither an adventure or a thriller. It is a tale told of how war affects human beings of all kinds, written in a very moving way, on a grand scale.
Perhaps one day someone will make a third film, based on the same novel. It has well drawn, interesting characters, clear, bold descriptions of battles, and at its centre, it has the complicated, ultimately sad romance between Julio and Marguerite, and the grand summoning of the four horsemen from the pages of the Book of Revelation, bringing conquest, war, judgement and death upon the battlefield of Earth.